“PIPPAAAA!!!!!”
She heard Jumal screaming her name loudly and briefly wondered what she’d done this time before she blacked out.
***
“Good afternoon, Mr Aldabbagh, I—”
Jumal didn’t let the doctor finish before he interrupted, “Is she going to be all right? There was so much blood,” he demanded abruptly, too anxious for pleasantries.
“Yes. Head wounds do bleed quite badly and she needed a few stitches in her scalp but nothing too serious. They’ll dissolve in a week or so. We’ve kept her sedated whilst we scanned and monitored her brain. There’s a slight concussion and she’ll need to be observed for a little while longer but yes, she will be fine. The nurse will be in shortly and I’ll be back in a few hours.”
He let out the breath he thought he’d been holding since he got to her crumpled body lying against the hard concrete—blood, too much blood, pouring from her head. He couldn’t close his eyes without seeing that nightmare—didn’t think he would ever be able to forget it. He sat at her bedside and took hold of her hand, remembering her soothing touch when he’d been in her position in that hospital bed, and ran his fingers carefully over the back of her hand.
Thankfully the barista from the coffee shop had run out after him, sensing that something was wrong, and she had called for an ambulance and the police.
He’d taken a call from the police a short time ago who confirmed that they had caught and arrested the suspect with the help of some brave pedestrians, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment. He needed Pip to open her cornflower blue eyes so he could stare into them and assure himself that she would be fine. She had to be okay.
“You two just can’t keep away from here, can you? Do you think you get patient reward points or something?” Jumal looked up and offered a weary smile to the nurse who had escorted him from the hospital in the wheelchair all those weeks ago.
“We just love the food,” he offered flippantly.
“Hmm-hm. I thought I told you to look after this fiancée of yours,” she mocked. “Did they catch the guy?”
“Apparently,” he confirmed but not trusting himself to say any more. Cursing wouldn’t impress the nursing staff.
He’d lost count of the number of times people had assumed that he and Pip were engaged but was forever thankful that she’d had the sense to tell the hospital of their “betrothal” when he was admitted. He hadn’t even had to lie again when she was admitted. The staff remembered them and the fact they were “engaged”.
“He didn’t steal her ring, did he?” the nurse asked, concerned and nodding towards the hand he held.
“What?” Jumal asked looking up again. “Oh no, erm, thankfully she wasn’t wearing it today,” he lied as he shook his head.
The nurse attended to her duties whilst muttering about crime and the youth of today blah blah blah. Jumal wasn’t listening.
He leaned forward and brushed the hair from Pip’s shoulders and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek, careful of the severe bandage around her head. He moved his mouth near her ear. “Wake up please, baby. Come on,” he encouraged. “Wake up and tell me what an idiot I was to leave you alone.”
He closed his eyes and dropped his head to rest on her bed. Pippa being still and quiet wasn’t natural. Even in her sleep she really did mumble and chatter to herself…maybe not quite how he had teased her all those weeks ago, but she was still a chatterbox and he loved it…loved it, loved her.
He was in love with her.
He wanted to hold her in his arms. He remembered doing precisely that a few weeks ago. He’d been into the office one weekend when it was deserted, taking advantage of the peace and quiet and finishing up some work before giving in to his desire to see Pippa again and rushing home…
The absence of the usual deafening pulse of dance music in the apartment on his return was his first sign that something was amiss, closely followed by the fact that he could hear the dulcet tones of Nat King Cole singing “When I fall in love” coming from Pippa’s bedroom. He went to knock on her door to ask if she wanted a drink when he heard her sharp intake of breath and sobs. She was crying. He knocked on the door but opened it slowly, not waiting for an invitation. He found her curled up on her bed hugging her knees in tightly to her chest.
He had approached her slowly, not wanting to scare her if she hadn’t heard him knocking, but wondering what the hell had happened in the hour or so he’d left her alone. “Pippa, hey.”
She was clearly distraught about something and it scared him to death. He wasn’t used to worrying about others and the need to comfort her was alien, but it just wasn’t like her to be this upset.
“What is it? What’s the matter?” he asked, sitting down on the side of her bed and reaching out for her shoulder. She jumped slightly in response but didn’t ask him to remove it or scream at him to get out. He reached over and gently pulled her hair back over her shoulder and out of her face.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he tried again.
She sniffed and grabbed a handful of tissues from her side table before turning her body to face him and curling up into his chest. Jumal was surprised by her action and wasn’t initially sure what the hell to do with his arms. Eventually he acted on impulse and held her tightly to his chest and manoeuvred his body so that he was lying down with her body still curled into his like a child. He let her cry until she exhausted herself into a restless sleep. She mumbled a lot but he wasn’t able to make out anything specific.
He made the most of the opportunity and simply enjoyed holding her body close to his own without needing to rationalise it. Her riotous hair was spread over his chest and smelt of apples. After an hour or so she woke and eventually explained that it was the anniversary of her mother’s death and she’d apparently always loved Nat King Cole. Pip confessed that she had put on a front following her mother’s death. A front to Matt and the family housekeeper that she was still her bright and bubbly self when actually she was falling apart inside and falling behind in her university studies. His heart broke listening to her. He wanted to wrap her, this other side of her, in his arms and never let anything ever hurt her again…
He looked up to check the monitors again and decided that he hadn’t done such a great job keeping that promise. On a school report it would likely say: “Must do better.”
The nurse interrupted his thoughts. “Can I bring you a drink of tea or something, Mr Aldabbagh?”
“No thank you. I’m fine.” Although, until she woke up, he was anything but fine…
***
“Thank Allah.”
She recognised Jumal’s voice. He sounded upset…oh right, he’d been yelling at her for something… “You’re awake.” He puffed his cheeks and let out a long breath. “How do you feel? Does your head still hurt?” he asked, concerned and gently brushing her brow.
She lifted her hand and felt the bandage surrounding her head and winced. “I hit my head,” she said slowly.
“Hmm-hm,” Jumal confirmed. “You fell back and hit your head on the ground. They’ve put a couple of stitches in there and they are just monitoring you for concussion. I think you’re going to have to stay in at least overnight—” she pulled a face at this information “—but I’m staying with you,” he added determinedly.
“It hurts,” she admitted, “and I can’t see.”
Worry etched his face. “I’ll get a nurse,” he said urgently, moving to stand, but she held out her hand.
“Wait. I don’t need the nurse. I can handle the pain and I just need my glasses. Stay here with me,” she pleaded, weakly.
He nodded gently. “Here,” he said, handing her a spare pair of her glasses. “I had Melina get these for you from the apartment. I thought it better than having to wear your sunglasses.”
He took hold of her hand with his left and eased gingerly back into the chair at her bedside. “Pippa—” he swallowed deeply “—I need to tell you something,” he confessed.
“They caught the person who attacked you.”
“Yeah? Well good. Did he say what he was after? Was it just money or something?”
He dropped his head down but she didn’t press him further.
Abruptly he looked up as if he’d made an important decision. “It wasn’t a man.”
“What?” she said, faintly.
“It was—” He stalled again.
What the hell was going on?! she worried.
“Faridah.”
“What, where?” she asked, looking towards the doorway.
“No, no, I mean, the mugger was Faridah. In fact it was all her.” She watched, speechless, as he closed his eyes tightly for a moment. “The police caught up with her and arrested her and then visited her apartment. They found your bag and they also found some unprescribed drugs. I told them about your birthday party and the drugging.”
“I don’t—” she started to say before shaking her head and wincing from the throbbing pain.
“It’s likely it was all her—the car as well.” His voice dropped low and raspy.
“Why? I just don’t understand why.”
He sat forward and took hold of her hand and proceeded to tell her about the contract with the Dubai government in full detail. How Faridah had been approached by a shipping competitor in Dubai and accepted a very handsome payment to stitch up Jumal and his company for the inclusion of a term in the contract, which could have led to his financial ruin. His company would have been held responsible for a delayed completion date, even if the Dubai government pushed it back, which had severe compensation penalties. He hadn’t yet fully explored the likelihood that the Dubai government had been involved in the subterfuge… He might have to have a little chat with Kahlid once Pippa was out of hospital.
“I’m so, so sorry, Pippa,” he said in a whisper. “If I had thought for one moment that she was a risk to you, that she’d react against you, I would never ever have mentioned that you had discovered her betrayal. I just wanted her to know that you were… Well, it doesn’t matter now why, but—” he shook his head briskly and she could tell he was flustered “—I should have reported her to the police but, God…” He sat back, dropping her hand gently and raking both of his hands through his hair, which stuck up.
“Can you forgive me?” he pleaded, once again reaching for her hand as his eyes desperately searched hers. “I just assumed that if she was going to hit out at anyone, she’d come after me. Me,” he emphasised. “Never you.” His voice broke as he shook his head.
“It wasn’t you, Jumal. There’s nothing to forgive. Nothing,” she added in an attempt to soothe him.
He dropped his head to lie gently against her hand.
“Well,” she said, “it just goes to prove what I always thought.”
“What’s that, honey?” he asked, leaving his head resting against her hand.
“Never trust tall people.”
Her heart monitor jumped to life as Jumal turned her hand over in his and pressed a gentle kiss to the sensitive inside of her wrist, against her now rushing pulse. The monitor continued to go wild in response. Strange, she thought, how a machine could tell Jumal everything he needed to know about her feelings for him…if only he cared to listen.
***
“Oh. My. God. It’s huge.”
“Pip,” he said, exasperated. “We’ve been over this for the last ten minutes. It’s standard size. You know it is.”
“Nah-ah,” she argued determinedly, shaking her index finger at him and it. “There is no way that that is going to fit down my throat. I’ll choke on it.”
“Don’t be a baby. Now open wide. If you don’t I’ll grab you, hold you down, force it in and rub your throat till you swallow,” Jumal threatened lightly.
She swallowed as if practising. “It’s like something James would give an animal,” she shrieked, holding her arms out to keep the now stalking Jumal from approaching her. “I hate you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Now open up, baby.”
She sighed animatedly, rolling her eyes. “Good grief. Fine then just give it to me. Sir.”
“Good girl.”
“It’s your turn next.” She grinned wickedly.
***
Later that evening, having both had their pain medication, Jumal had pampered her to distraction, running around the apartment like a mother hen. They then sat next to each other on the leather sofa, all four legs resting on the low-rise coffee table with Jumal’s laptop resting on their touching thighs…
“What about this one?” Jumal suggested, pointing to the screen.
“Hmm, yeah, that could work.”
“And what if we turned that way?” They both tilted their necks to the side and paused briefly before slowly straightening, pursing their lips.
“Hmmm,” they said together.
“Interesting,” Pip commented slowly.
“Very interesting,” Jumal agreed closing the laptop.
“You grab the condoms and I’ll grab the chocolate.”
Pip giggled as Jumal all but threw the laptop on the other chair and helped her up with his good hand. To any interested eavesdropper, they could just have easily been picking out curtains at Laura Ashley dot com rather than looking at the Kama Sutra for positions that they might actually have a hope in hell of achieving—what with her head injury prohibiting her being on the bottom and the plethora of his bodily grievances, which put the kibosh on his being on top! But when he’d sulked like a stroppy teenager at the threat of abstinence, Pip had assured him that where there was a will, there had to be a way…and she was very, very willing!
***
Jumal’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he dropped his shirt to the floor. “Is that…?”
“Hmm-hm,” Pip confirmed, nodding, with a suggestive smile appearing slowly on her lips, her hands resting provocatively on her hips. “It arrived whilst I was in hospital. I thought you’d like to see what you ordered. I really like the purple. Excellent choice.”
“Holy nippleage, Batman,” he mumbled, raking his left hand through his hair and dropping it to his chest. “You’re killing me, Pippa.”
Her sex-kitten act could have been ruined as she went to lean back against the bathroom door she’d just exited, clearly thinking it had closed fully behind her. She stumbled back through it and Jumal’s heart nearly jumped from his chest as he lurched forward hopelessly. Thankfully she managed to right herself and pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and fluffed her hair back over her shoulders. “Er, just pretend you didn’t just see that,” she suggested sheepishly, waving backwards over her shoulder as she made sure the door was properly closed.
He grinned broadly at her antics as he stalked towards her. “You are still and will always be the sexist woman I have ever laid eyes on.” His voice was now husky.
She flushed brightly and his eyes were automatically drawn to her rising and falling chest as she took a deep breath.
His body invaded her space, their thighs pressing together. He could feel her pebbled nipples against his now bare chest. As he towered at least an extra foot over her head she was forced to crane her neck to look up into his eyes. If she’d let him, he’d carry her around with him all day, every day. His very own Pocket Pippa.
Her huge blue eyes seemed so innocent, but there was another side to Pippa that he’d had the pleasure to know and to… He mentally shook his head to clear the thought that was about to pop into his head.
He tilted her head up and slowly lowered his lips to hers. “So beautiful,” he murmured against her lips. His body recognised hers now, knew what made her moan, laugh and throw her head back in unashamed pleasure. His favourite part of kissing her was when she made the move to deepen their kiss. He relished teasing her, pulling back and softening the kiss, knowing very well she wanted more, wanted it deeper…
Eventually she’d lose patience with him and moan as if annoyed at her own wanton desire, locking h
er hands behind his neck to pull him down towards her. That throaty moan never failed to make him instantly rock hard. It was vocal Viagra.
She was getting close. Her breathy, eager sounds were getting louder as he dragged his lips from hers and trailed them down the side of her throat and along her clavicle. He slid his good arm around under her shoulder blades and pulled her body in tighter. He heard the soft thump as her head fell back against the bathroom door and her resulting complaint of “ouch” and grinned against her heated skin… Time for a change.
His hands moved to press against her hips and gently urged her to turn around to face the door. She eagerly complied as he gathered her hair over one shoulder. He licked his lips in appreciation of the exotic pale curves of her shoulders, spine, waist and bottom, set off magnificently by the newly purchased lingerie. He whimpered as he caught sight of the black and purple lace string, which disappeared between her perfectly pert cheeks. Damn he was good at picking lingerie.
He nudged the straps of her bra to fall around her biceps and began to worship her shoulders with his lips. Her body shivered excitedly in response. “You like that,” he whispered against her skin and took her responsive moan as affirmation.
“I had, erm, I had a naughty dream about you—”
“Hmm, go on,” he encouraged between his kisses, which traced the path of his wandering fingertips.
“It was after that night we spent in the lift.”
“And what did we do?” he pressed, kissing her shoulder blades. “Tell me. Everything”
He dropped to his knees and heard her gasp with surprise. He traced his fingers down her delicate spine. She was magnificent, he decided as he took a moment to admire the extreme contrast between his rougher, darker, tanned skin and her flawless porcelain perfection. He ignored the possibility that the imagery was a reflection of them as a couple—opposites.
“Erm, well, you—” she paused.
“Yes.”
“You, pressed me up against my front door and pushed your body up against my back.”
“We were outside?” He was staggered.
“Erm yes,” she confirmed, her voice croaking.
His Irresistible Darling Page 20
